from the ground shall we rise
by superimpossedmadness
Summary: In the nexus of the Force, there exists an infinite number of possible timelines, of universes that parallel the other. This is one of them. Or: Young Padawan Anakin Skywalker finds a friend in Initiate Rey.


The Jedi temple was still a foreign, _terrifying _place for Anakin, despite his new Master's assurances telling him otherwise. None of the other kids his age seemed all that welcoming either. They would always watch him with wary eyes, lingering on his Padawan braid in particular. Jedi younglings, Anakin has learned, weren't as obvious as other younglings about their dislike, oh no. Their Jedi restraint would never allow it. They would whisper and stare, sometimes laughing at him whenever he would flub at something that he should've known but they usually left him alone, for the most part anyways. It wasn't like it was his fault he didn't know shavit about Galactic history or political reforms. Who had time to learn that on Tatooine?

Well _fine._ It's not like Anakin needed them anyways. He tried to tell himself that the hurt blossoming in his chest meant absolutely nothing. Nothing at all.

Despite being given the status of Obi-Wan Kenobi's Padawan, his Master still had Anakin sit in on Crèche lessons, which really didn't help him fit in with the other junior Padawans either. Those classes were for _babies_, he should be with Obi-Wan on his missions like the other Padawans got to do with their own Masters. He held his own during the Invasion of Naboo, surely he could help Obi-Wan on some diplomatic mission. He was good enough! He was, wasn't he? It wasn't fair that he had to stay behind while Obi-Wan got to go and do Jedi stuff.

Anakin would often sit alone during class while the other younglings grouped themselves together with the ones they were most familiar with. It was a lonely cycle that happened too often that Anakin had resigned himself to his fate. They were a clan, after all. It figured that Anakin would be the outsider.

But he wouldn't let himself be bogged down by this, he _couldn't._ He promised his mom that he'd be a Jedi Knight, and a Jedi Knight he'd be. He wouldn't let these _sleemos _get in the way of that.

There was another youngling though who would sit apart from the others as well, but Anakin noticed that she still had a few friends who would go out of their way to talk to her. She never really said much in the first place but her friends would find ways to include her in the lessons and their meditation circles. Anakin had to tamp down on the envy he felt, fervently reminding himself that jealousy wasn't really a Jedi emotion — not that they had much of those anyhow.

She was a little shy, Anakin idly observed, participating in class only when she was called upon. He mostly remembered her because of the distinctive way she would fix her hair up in three little buns. Anakin thought her name might've been Rey, but he wasn't sure if it was a nickname or not.

As Anakin watched the other younglings talk amongst themselves, he spared a moment to think about what it would be like to be like the other Initiates, to be so assured of their identities and their worth as soon as they were old enough to comprehend it, in the safety and comfort of the Jedi temple. But he was quick to dismiss the thought before it had the chance to linger. He felt wretched, guilt-stricken, because despite the circumstances of his childhood back on Tatooine, at the very least he had his mother with him and that was something he would never change for anything.

* * *

After Crèche classes, Anakin would normally head straight to the living quarters he shared with Obi-Wan for extra lessons on meditation — something he sorely needed, according to Obi-Wan — but since his Master was off-planet, Anakin reasoned that a little time to himself couldn't hurt.

Anakin found himself lingering in the Room of a Thousand Fountains that day. Seeing that much water still made Anakin a little uneasy but he couldn't deny that it was a beautiful place. He never knew so much green could exist in the whole galaxy. He would sometimes sit as close to the waterfalls as he would dare, just to feel the cool spray of water on his face. While he still couldn't quite lose himself to the Force like Obi-Wan could during his meditations, being in the Room of a Thousand Fountains was as close to serenity as Anakin could get.

It gave him a moment to get away from everybody else, away from the whispers, the indifference, the _disapproval._ Without Obi-Wan in the Temple, Anakin felt even lonelier than he had ever thought possible. He couldn't bear the thought of going back to their empty quarters, so bare and sterile, as most Jedi quarters were. Even Anakin's home back on Tatooine had trinkets and baubles that made it feel lived-in, that made it a _home._

Master Yoda would chastise him about his attachment to Obi-Wan, but his Master was the only familiar thing in the _whole _Temple, the last tentative connection he had to his past, and a selfish part of Anakin refused to let go.

Now even more upset than before, Anakin made his way to a clearing deep within the Room of a Thousand Fountains. In the distance, the sound of running water could be heard. He breathed in deep, plopping down unceremoniously on the ground. He dumped his satchel next to him, leaning back on his hands so he could stare off into the distance.

Anakin heaved a sigh, thinking about possible projects he could work on to pass the time. He knew he should be working on his assignments for class but he couldn't even muster up the willpower to glance at his datapad where the articles for his_ Introduction to Mid-Rim Cultures _class lay waiting for him. He spent some time just taking in the tranquility of the clearing, listening to the sound of the birds and gurgle of water in the distance.

But as always, inactivity and boredom soon gripped Anakin. One of the many criticisms Anakin had received was his apparent inability to sit still. He could already feel the itch start to build up in his fingers, that familiar need to tinker and lose himself in the mundanity of fixing and putting things together again.

He gathered his things, already planning ways to sneak off to the garbage collection point in the lower levels of the Temple. There were usually a lot of serviceable droid parts to be found, and it would be a _crime _to see those go to waste.

* * *

"What are you doing?" Anakin heard from behind him. He dropped his spanner in his shock but he moved his foot back just in time before it could hurt him. _Star's end_, he had thought the hangar was empty. He peeked over his shoulder, a crude curse or two already on his tongue. His words sputtered and tangled together before they could form when he was met with Rey's curious gaze.

"Uh," he mumbled inelegantly, self-consciously straightening his tunic. He winced when he belatedly realised that he had just smeared grease down the front of his tunic in his aborted gesture. He could already imagine Obi-Wan's exasperation, his reprimand as he'd remind Anakin that the stain would be a pain to remove completely.

He glanced up hesitantly, half-expecting Rey to burst into laughter at his mistake — it's what the other Initiates and junior Padawans would have done. Instead, he was met with silence and her patient stare. He cleared his throat and replied, "Just fixin' a droid."

"Oh?" She walked up to his side to take a peek at the odd bits and pieces of droid parts he had taken before they could be discarded to the trash compactor. A waste, if you asked him, they were still perfectly serviceable if you knew how to fix them right.

She had her hands clasped behind her back, leaning forward to peer down at Anakin's half-assembled droid. "You're pretty good," she observed quietly after a pause, glancing up at Anakin.

Against Anakin's better judgement, he blushed. Normally he would have beamed with pride at the compliment, but something about how it had come from Rey, of all people, made him squirm in embarrassment.

"Yeah, well, I've been doing it all my life," he stated with a half-hearted shrug, this time reaching for a rag on the countertop to wipe his hands with. It gave him something to do, at least.

Rey hummed, looking off to the side. She unclasped her hands and gently swung them forward, absently rubbing at the fabric of her tunic. "I'm pretty handy with machines and droids, too," she admitted somewhat bashfully, curling into herself.

Anakin perked up Rey's admission. "Yeah?" He grinned. He carelessly tossed the rag back on the countertop, practically vibrating with excitement.

Rey turned to look at Anakin, nodding slowly. She looked rather surprised by his enthusiasm.

"Sorry," Anakin shrugged sheepishly, leaning down to pick up his spanner. He fiddled with it, not quite meeting Rey's gaze. "I haven't really met any other younglings here who're interested in mechanics as well. I just — I don't know."

"No, um, you don't have to apologise." Rey bit the inside of her cheek, posture tense as if she were steeling herself. Exhaling softly, she went back to clasping her hands together. "Would you mind if I stayed? I'd understand if want to be alone, of course."

Anakin's eyes widened in shock before he quickly composed himself. Not a lot of younglings were friendly with him either, but this. This was nice, if a little unexpected. "Sure, I don't mind."

"I could help, if you'd like," Rey offered with a small smile — the first Anakin had seen from her. _It's nice_, he observed distractedly, dimpled and unabashedly friendly.

Anakin swallowed past the knot in his throat, nodding. "I'd like that."

He stretched his arm between them, offering his hand with a wide smile curling his lips. "I don't think I've really introduced myself properly. I'm Anakin, Anakin Skywalker."

She reached over and clasped his hand in hers, heedless of the grease now staining it. "I'm Rey."


End file.
